


Sex Ed 101

by Laluna92



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Werewolf, F/M, Hand Jobs, M/M, Porn With Plot, Socially Awkward Derek, Virgin Stiles Stilinski, ill add more tags with the upcoming chapters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-05
Updated: 2016-03-26
Packaged: 2018-05-11 23:43:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,996
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5646100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Laluna92/pseuds/Laluna92
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles nods and says, “Okay. You teach me how to…” he struggles to find the right word and blushes, “do stuff and I’ll teach you how to put yourself out there.”<br/>Derek gets off the bed and opens his bedroom door, signaling for Stiles to leave. “We’ll start off slow. Just kissing tomorrow.”<br/>Stiles walks through the door and grins nervously, “Okay, cool. Thanks.”<br/>Derek doesn’t reply and shuts the door in his face. Stiles also makes a mental note to teach the guy some manners.</p><p>Or: Stiles wants more sexual experience to gain his Crush,Theo's attention. Derek offers to teach him, everything from kissing to sex.<br/>(Chapters will get more explicit.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Sex Ed 101

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Teen Wolf day ;)

 

“Welcome to Sex Ed. Today we’re going to learn how to put a condom on using a banana.”

Coach Finstock throws the bananas at the students along with some condoms, consequently hitting Stiles straight in the face with a particularly hard throw. Scott begins to laugh but once Stiles turns his death glare his way, his laughing turns to coughing, knowing full well that Stiles is not in the mood to be messed with today.

It’s just his luck that Jackson is sitting right in front of him next to Danny, full on pointing and cackling at the red mark on his cheek, “Getting some practice in, Stilinski?”

Stiles just grins when Coach hands a banana to Jackson and says, “Now pretend the banana is your penis,” the banana is about 4 inches in length and Coach winks at him, “I’m guessing that’s about the size your packing based on your car. One word: overcompensation.”

Last week Jackson parked in Coach Finstock’s spot and refused to move his precious Porsche because he didn’t want to park next to Stiles’, “shitmobile”, as he called it and apparently Coach wasn’t over it yet.

Jackson just scoffs and smashes the banana with his closed fist, “I am _not_ overcompensating. I’m a grower not a shower.”

Stiles chooses to ignore that statement because he does not want to think about Jackson’s dick and turns to Scott, “So how far did you get with Allison on your date?”

Scott’s face transforms in half a second from boredom to staring dreamily at Stiles, “All the way. We made love all night long.”

He immediately regrets asking because now Scott’s in full blown Allison mode and Stiles expects that he’ll tell him all of the intimate details for the rest of the day. He shifts closer to Scott and lowers his voice to a whisper, “How does the whole werewolf thing affect everything?”

Scott smirks at him, “Increased stamina, plus it only takes me like one minute to get it up after coming.”

Stiles’ life is so not fair. Scott gets bitten and turned into an apparent sex god, his words not Stiles’, and Stiles is still a virgin at eighteen years old. He hasn’t even kissed anyone, unless he counts the time his aunt got drunk and thought Stiles was her ex husband and laid a wet one on him, but Stiles was so not counting that because he still has nightmares over it, plus Thanksgiving is really awkward now.

“I don’t get why we have to take this stupid class,” Stiles says and makes a face at Greenberg who’s put the banana through the zipper of his pants and is humping the top of the desk.

Scott follows his line of sight where Coach is spraying Greenberg with a spray bottle full of water and says, “Seriously. I’m pretty sure like everyone here knows how to use a condom,” he then looks at Stiles and winces, “Well, maybe not you but everyone else.”

“You know who I’m waiting for,” he says dramatically, clutching the banana in his hands, smashing the top of it, “Plus, you really think Greenberg’s had sex?”

Greenberg is fake jacking off the banana and it’s at this point that Coach takes the banana from him all together.

Scott shrugs, “Let’s hope for humanity’s sake that he never does. We don’t need him to procreate.”

Stiles nods in agreement and turns his attention to Coach who looks fed up, “Since all of you are immature little children, we won’t be using the bananas. I’ll take questions instead.”

Greenberg immediately raises his hand, making Coach’s left eye twitch. “Anyone?”

Greenberg raises his hand higher and since no one else has their hand raised, he’s forced to call on him. He rubs his temple and grits out reluctantly, “Greenberg.”

Greenberg smiles wide, “I have two questions. So I heard if you put hot sauce on your dick that it kills the sperm and you won’t get a girl pregnant. Right?”

The class bursts into laughs around him and Stiles’ eyes widen in disbelief because Greenberg isn’t joking. Coach looks like he’s about to have an aneurism at his question and grips the desk tightly to hold back his annoyance, “No, dumbass. Next question.”

Greenberg’s expression turns to confusion before he shakes his head and says, “Girls get orgasms when they use tampons right? Because my mom said no but like, how is that possible when they’re sticking it up there?”

Coach is completely done at this point and he yells, “Fuck me in the ass without any KY! I’m done teaching this bullshit,” he storms out of the room and everyone stares after him, the room deadly silently at his exit.

Greenberg decides to break the silence, “Was it something I said?”

-

Theo Raeken, the man of his dreams. Stiles has been in love with him since fourth grade, ever since he offered Stiles half of his curly fries as a courtship of friendship. Scott, Theo and he were good friends until Theo moved away but recently he moved back and Theo is all Stiles can think about.

It’s free period and Stiles is leaning on his locker, watching Theo rummage though his locker with a look of concentration. Theo looks so hot, his perfectly styled hair is a little messy today, as if he’s run his fingers through it one too many times. That leads Stiles to wonder about what his sex hair looks like and the muscles he’s put on and how he made eye contact with Stiles today during lunch.

Theo is the star of his late night fantasies as of late and Stiles is definitely memorizing the way he locked eyes with him but instead of it being for a brief second, this time it will be when he’s on his knees and…

“Dude, I’m right here!” Scott shoves at Stiles and scrunches his nose up in disgust.

“What? It’s not my fault you can smell my every emotion.” Stiles looks back at Theo and panics when he realizes Theo is walking their way. He hurriedly opens his locker and looks in the mirror, grimacing when he finds a piece of lettuce stuck between his front teeth.

Theo smiles brightly at them, showing off his straight, white teeth and greets them warmly, “Hey, what are you…” he trails off and sniffs the air, looking between the two of them.

Scott glares at Stiles and he feels himself redden because Theo just smelled his arousal, great. Stiles reaches into his locker and pulls out the first thing he grabs to distract him. Theo looks at the object in his hand and lifts his eyebrow in question while Scott just looks amused.

Stiles looks down and reddens even further when he realizes it’s a banana with a condom on it. Jackson must have put it in there because the thing is covered in lube. Horrified, Stiles shoves it back in and laughs nervously, “That’s not supposed to be in there.”

“Where, exactly is it supposed to be then?” Theo asks teasingly, his green eyes shining brightly.

Stiles sort of gets lost in their beauty and he opens his mouth to speak but instead of words coming out a trail of spit runs down the corner of his lip instead. Theo loses his smile and turns to Scott, “So I’ll see you later tonight, double date?”

“For sure, my man.”

They fist bump and Theo smiles awkwardly at him before walking away. It’s then that Stiles regains control of his face and wipes the spit off, shoving at Scott and slamming his locker shut.

Scott shoves him back and says, “What was that for?”

“Gee, maybe because you let me make an idiot of myself!” he says and he’s pretty sure any previous progress he made in turning Theo on is at a negative one hundred on a scale from one to ten.

“You always make an idiot of yourself.”

Stiles ignores the insult and continues, “Why didn’t you tell me you’re going on a double date with Theo? Who’s he going with?”

Scott turns serious and holds him by the shoulders, “If I tell you, you have to promise not to freak out.”

Stiles rolls his eyes, “I won’t.”

Scott looks at him pointedly and Stiles throws his hands up, “Okay, maybe I’ll freak out a little bit. Is it one of the cheerleaders again?”

Scott tightens his grip and shakes his head slowly, “No.”

Geez, Scott’s being dramatic. It can’t be that bad.

-

They walk into Scott’s house, Scott with his hands covering his ears and Stiles’ screaming shrill piercing the air, “Jackson fucking Whitmore? Are you shitting me?”

When Scott had told him that it was Jackson, Stiles had doubled over in laughter, the thought that Theo would date Jackson being a hilarious joke. One that would never happen, like Scott telling him that Lydia was in love with him. Not possible, but when Scott’s expression never changed except for the pitied look in his eye, Stiles knew it was true.

Stiles throws himself dramatically across the couch and throws an arm over his face, “My life is over. With my luck they’ll get engaged by the end of the date and Jackson will announce he’s pregnant.”

Scott sits on top of him and pulls his arm back to reveal his face, “That’s not biologically possible. It’s just casual, dude. Nothing to worry about. He’s probably just going out with him because Jackson gives good head.”

That perks his interest and he sits up on his elbows, “How do you know that?

Scott’s eyes widen and he backpedals, “Danny told me, okay? I did not have sexual relations with that man!”

Stiles laughs at Scott’s poor imitation of Bill Clinton and turns to the television screen. He nearly elbows Scott in the eye when he catches sight of Derek in the reflection but Scott ducks it with his impeccable reflexes.

“We need to put a bell on him or something. Whenever I’m over here he’s always watching us creepily from the corner.” Stiles chances a look behind him and sees Derek in the corner of the hall with a frown on his face.

“I can hear you.” Derek growls before stomping upstairs to his room.

Scott sighs and leans back lazily, “You should be nicer to him.”

Stiles’ conscience agrees with Scott and as a result the guilt seeps into his mind. Scott’s mom adopted Derek when he was sixteen and even then he didn’t have the best social skills. He’s now twenty two and just graduated College, living back home until he finds a grown up job. Derek was only around for two years until he went to college, stopping by for the holidays and during the summer, but he mostly kept to himself for the most part.

Stiles had a bit of a crush on the guy when he first met him because he’s very attractive, like model status. He only spoke one word syllables to Stiles and glared at him constantly so Stiles learned to keep his distance, especially considering the fact that he’s a werewolf as well.

“I’m sorry, okay? I’m just cranky.” Stiles groans out in misery because his life isn’t fair.

“You should play the field, dude. They say the best way to get over someone is to get under someone else,” Scott wiggles his eyebrows at him.

A light bulb suddenly goes off in his head, the perfect plan formulating right before his eyes. He smiles widely at Scott, “You said Theo is going out with Jackson because he’s experienced, right?”

Scott grows suspicious but nods.

“That means if I get experience he’ll go out with me. I need someone to teach me how to do stuff with,” he looks down and fiddles with the pillow in his lap, “I haven’t even been kissed.”

“Uh, no?”

Scott has paled considerably and he looks nervous, “You’re my best friend and all, but I’m not having sex with you. Or doing anything else sexual.”

Stiles gives him his signature bitch face and throws the pillow at him, “Not you,” he says and rolls his eyes at Scott’s relieved expression.

“Then who?” Scott asks.

Stiles tries to think of someone but comes up blank. Fuck.

-

Stiles passes Derek’s room and knocks on the closed door, intending to apologize for his earlier behavior. The door swings open and Stiles is met face to face with Derek’s shirtless chest, his eyes narrowing at him before barking out a, “What?”

Stiles snaps out of his daydream and meets Derek’s dark eyes, “I’m sorry for earlier. You’re not a creeper. Just sometimes.”

Derek furrows his eyebrows, “That’s an apology?”

“You can tell when I’m lying and when you stand in the corner without my knowledge you’re bordering on Edward Cullen status so yeah. Sorry.” He says the words quickly and gauges Derek’s reaction.

Derek’s stares at him blankly before opening his door wider. He doesn’t say anything so Stiles assumes he’s inviting him inside and squeezes his way past Derek, his arm brushing against Derek’s burning hot skin.

He ignores the tingle he gets from the contact and looks around Derek’s room. The walls are bare and there’s only a computer desk, a bookshelf and his bed occupying the space. He shrugs and hops onto Derek’s bed, bouncing in place, making the bed squeak.

Derek growls and puts a hand on his thigh, “Do you ever stop moving?”

“Nope,” he smacks his lips at the p sound and looks down at Derek’s hand. Derek removes his hand quickly and stares intently at the wall in front of him, though Stiles doesn’t know what he could be looking at since there’s nothing there.

“I heard you and Scott talking downstairs…”

“That’s not helping your creeper status, dude.”

Derek’s fists clench and he huffs out an agitated breath, “I’ll do it.”

Stiles just stares at him because he has no idea what Derek is talking about. “Do what?” he asks.

Derek looks like he’s in physical pain and he clenches his jaw, gritting his teeth, “I’ll teach you.”

Wait, what? Is Derek offering what Stiles thinks he is?

Stiles swallows heavily, Derek turning his head at the sound. He lets his eyes wander over Derek’s chest and abs and thinks that he could do much worse. If it’s just physical then there shouldn’t be a problem, Derek barely tolerates him. Speaking of which…

“Why?” Stiles asks, because Derek is the last person he expected to offer up his services. Wait, what if Derek’s an escort or something?

“If you expect payment for this, I can’t. For one, I’m broke and two, that’s just weird.”

Derek grumbles under his breath and Stiles catches the words, regret and annoying before Derek says, “I’m doing this because I want something in return.”

Stiles can’t think for the life of him what Derek could possibly want from him and says, “Like what?”

Derek bites his lip and looks down before looking up at Stiles from behind his thick fringe of lashes, “Teach me how to be outgoing, like you.”

“What?”

“Sociable, friendly, cordial, do you need any more synonyms?” Derek says, annoyed at Stiles’ lack of understanding.

“Okay, but why me? I thought I annoyed you.”

“You do annoy me,” he looks at Stiles pointedly, “but people seem to gravitate toward you. I want that,” he looks vulnerable for a moment and Stiles softens at his words.

Stiles nods and says, “Okay. You teach me how to…” he struggles to find the right word and blushes, “do stuff and I’ll teach you how to put yourself out there.”

Derek gets off the bed and opens his bedroom door, signaling for Stiles to leave. “We’ll start off slow. Just kissing tomorrow.”

Stiles walks through the door and grins nervously, “Okay, cool. Thanks.”

Derek doesn’t reply and shuts the door in his face. Stiles also makes a mental note to teach the guy some manners.

He finds Scott playing video games, yelling obscenities at the screen when he loses, “Where were you?”

“So I may have found someone to teach me…”

Scott bites his lip and shakes the control as he focuses on winning the next game, “Who?”

“Derek,” Stiles says and Scott drops the control, the game beeping and repeating the phrase “loser” at him.

He eventually groans and looks at Stiles pleadingly, “Please tell me you’re going to do it at your house? I don’t want to smell, see or hear anything.”

Stiles grins, “No promises.”

He thinks he hears Derek laugh and the nervous pit in his stomach grows. Tomorrow Stiles will be closer to getting Theo, and if he has to learn from Derek than it’s a sacrifice he’s willing to make. If he’s being completely honest, he’s more than willing, he’s even looking forward to it, but Stiles ignores the thought and joins Scott in the game.

Operation devirginize Stiles is a go.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	2. A little Kiss

“You look like shit.”

Scott’s ever so helpful comment would usually irk Stiles because he didn’t need Scott’s help in deflating his already low self confidence to begin with, but when he caught sight of his own reflection under the fluorescent lighting of his bathroom that morning, which isn’t the most flattering lighting to begin with, he can’t help but agree. With one look at Stiles from the purple bags under his eyes to his ghostly pale lips, even the most unobservant person could tell that he didn’t get a wink of sleep the night before.

Two events, both present and future weighed heavily on his already overactive mind yesterday evening. One of those events, the present, was of Jackson swallowing Theo’s dick whole with his nonexistent gag reflex. The other, the future, was of the upcoming lessons he was about to participate in with Derek. The mixed emotions consisting of jealousy and nervous anticipation are what kept his erratic thoughts working on over drive. He couldn’t even take advantage of his restlessness by jacking off to thoughts of Theo because apparently his dick decided to connect with his brain for once in his life and he couldn’t seem to get it up, and he wasn’t so desperate to get off that he was willing sneak into his father’s medicine cabinet and swallow a little blue pill.

“Instead of commenting on the obvious, you should be telling me all the gory details of your double date last night. Please tell me Jackson made a total idiot of himself and now Theo can’t stand to be in his very presence.”

They’re standing in the middle of the cafeteria; dodging overly rambunctious students who are acting as if they haven’t eaten in weeks by the way they shove and elbow anyone who dares to block their path to sustenance. Stiles on more than one occasion, has been hit in the nuts, specifically by Greenberg who practically roared when Stiles took the last slice of pepperoni pizza.

“What do you think?” Scott says and jerks his chin towards the table in the middle of the room, known as the so called “popular table,” and Stiles follows its path. He’s met with the unpleasant sight of Theo leaning against Jackson with his hand at the nape of his neck and his eyes alight with laughter, Jackson seeming to revel in Theo’s undivided attention.

Stiles’ already horrific mood sours even more and he’s tempted to throw his tray to the ground and yell fuck it, but Scott nudges him towards the table and tries to console him, “Relax. Theo will get tired of him eventually. I mean, its Jackson we’re talking about here.”

Stiles tries to find solace in Scott’s words, because he may have a point. There’s only so much dick sucking Jackson can do before they actually have to engage in a real conversation and Jackson is bound to say something douchey eventually.

They’re met with wide smiles and high fives, mostly directed at Scott if Stiles is being honest with himself, but nonetheless, Theo gives him a nod and greets him with a, “Hey, Stiles.”

Stiles feels like a girl in middle school, giddy with the realization that her crush actually acknowledged her existence and Stiles should be ashamed at how easy it is for Theo to lighten his mood but he’ll save his self loathing for later because right now he’s basking in the afterglow.

“Hey, Theo.” That’s all Stiles can manage to say, but nonetheless Theo chuckles and smiles at him brilliantly.

Jackson must notice his eager response to Theo because he gets a sinister look on his face before he unwraps the Popsicle that previously laid on his tray, cherry flavored, Stiles notes, and licks at the top of it, tearing Theo’s gaze from Stiles and gaining back every ounce of his attention. Jackson meets Theo’s eyes head on and licks stripes up the Popsicle, dibbles of red liquid dripping down his chin as he does so.

Theo stops one of the drops with the pad of his thumb before bringing to his mouth, his tongue flitting out to taste it. Jackson grins before he swallows down the Popsicle to the base, the entire thing disappearing into his mouth including the stick, and _holy shit_ , he really hopes Derek will teach him how to do that.

Jackson has gained the attention of every single person at the table, including Lydia who glances up briefly before proceeding to roll her eyes and carry on with reapplying her lip gloss, as if this is something she’s seen a thousand times before. Stiles would usually think further on this tid bit of information, but the way Jackson is moaning around the Popsicle while he slides his lips over the diminishing flavored ice is starting to do things to his nether regions that he didn’t think was possible.

It’s like he’s watching a live showing of a porno and even he isn’t unaffected by the way Jackson sucks that Popsicle like a fucking pro. He wills his dick to soften, but when Theo leans over once Jackson finishes the sweet treat and licks his way into his mouth as if they’re the only two people in the room, Stiles can’t help but hold back a wanton moan. He finally gets control of his limbs once the two boys break apart and turns his head to Scott, who’s staring down intently at the untouched lasagna on his Styrofoam plate. Stiles leans over and whispers, “You were saying?”

Scott eventually picks up his Spork, because the school’s too cheap to provide the students with regular utensils, and shoves a bite into his mouth, chewing the food thoroughly before swallowing and looking up, “I’m not even into guys and I got turned on. You’re screwed, dude.”

-

Stiles should heed Scott’s advice but his stubborn persistence is truly one of his most redeeming qualities. He’s in his last class, P.E., and is currently undressing and getting ready to hit the showers. Unfortunately, he shares the hour with Jackson who walks around as if he’s God’s gift to mankind. He does, however, share the class with Theo as well, and that usually makes running suicides bearable if it wasn’t for the inappropriate touches that he shared with Jackson the entire time.

He doesn’t even have Scott to whine to about his misfortunes so he has to satisfy his simmering anger by glowering at Jackson’s turned back. Theo and Jackson are currently undressing and Stiles can’t help but stare creepily from the corner and he thinks he may have judged Derek too harshly earlier.

Jackson’s perfectly muscled torso flexes as he moves and Stiles looks down at his own skinny frame and makes a mental note to add personal training as a part of Derek and his arrangement. Theo follows suit and wraps a towel around his waist, pulling his shorts off from underneath while Jackson has no qualms about getting buck ass naked in front of everyone, which is not surprising to Stiles in the least bit. The words attention whore comes to mind.

Stiles can’t help but look down and when he catches sight of little Jackson he grins surreptitiously. Coach was right on one thing, Jackson is definitely not a shower, probably isn’t a grower as Jackson claims to be. No wonder he’s so phenomenal at sucking dick, Stiles would be too if he wasn’t blessed in that department. Thankfully he is, and when he brushes past them and glances briefly to get a closer look, he bites back a smirk when he realizes he’s got a good three inches on Jackson and his mood lifts once again.

His good mood comes crashing down the moment he’s done showering and is getting dressed only to realize the moans he hears is coming from the notorious stall in the corner where all the guys go to get it on with a sign that says, “Keep your bodily fluids to yourself, sperm clogs the drains. Thank You.”

Of course no one listens and Coach is too preoccupied drinking out of the hidden flask in his desk to reinforce the rule and reprimand anyone who chooses to break it. He leaves in a hurry once he hears Theo moaning out Jackson’s name because he’s not a masochist, and with determination, drives at illegal speeds to get to Derek.

-

Scott lets him in reluctantly and grimaces at Stiles’ obvious eagerness to get to Derek and tells him, “He’s in his room.”

Stiles ruffles his hair, much to Scott’s annoyance, and takes the stairs two at a time in his haste to get to his destination.

He doesn’t even have to knock because as soon as he’s in front of the door, Derek pulls it open and gives Stiles a considering look, his eyes straying on his chest where his heart is pumping so loudly that he can feel it through his ear canals. Derek purses his lips and raises an eyebrow, “Are you having second thoughts?”

Stiles shuts down his question real quick and tries pushing his way into Derek’s room, but the immovable force that is Derek’s body stops him. Stiles tries to push at Derek’s chest but when his actions remain futile, he huffs out an annoyed breath and pulls away. “I was actually hoping we could skip kissing and just go straight to blow jobs.”

“The deal was that we go slowly,” Derek says pointedly and doesn’t bother asking Stiles why he’s in such a rush to move things along.

Stiles is nothing if not persistent and he tries to persuade Derek to change his mind by using his smolder eyes, but Derek remains unimpressed and still. Stiles finally relents and says, “Fine. Just kissing like we agreed yesterday.”

Derek seems satisfied with his answer and steps to the side, allowing Stiles into his lair. Stiles chews on his bottom lip and rocks back and forth on his heels, “You’ll be happy to know that I turned down onion rings at lunch today.”

Derek should be eternally grateful because Stiles loves his onion rings, almost as much as he loves his beloved curly fries with extra ketchup on the side.

“Thanks,” Derek deadpans and brushes past Stiles to sit on the edge of his mattress. Stiles is suddenly hit with the realization that he’s about to make out with Derek and his insides feel as though they are twisted into knots. Derek is just staring at him blankly and Stiles doesn’t know what to do with himself, but he knows he needs a couple of minutes to gather up some courage.

He lets out a nervous bark of laughter and smacks his forehead, “I should probably brush my teeth before we get started.”

Not bothering to stay for Derek’s response, he high tails it out of there and locks himself into the bathroom. His eyes are wide and his cheeks are flushed with a dusting of pink, his chest heaving as he gathers his wits. **_Fuck_** , he didn’t think he’d be so damn nervous but Derek is kind of intimidating. He’s probably made out with hundreds of attractive people, people who are actually in his league unlike Stiles. His thoughts take a new direction and he remembers the hungry look Theo gave Jackson at lunch and he steels himself because he’s eighteen, damnit, and he yearns for Theo to give him the same look.

His nerves slowing to background noise, he grabs a toothbrush and starts brushing his teeth with minty fresh toothpaste, not bothering to care that it belongs to Derek. He’s going to be exploring the inside of Derek’s mouth anyways so it makes no difference to him.

Ten minutes and three teeth scrubbings later, Derek is turning the knob of the door and Stiles can hear him picking at the lock to get in. Stiles’ eyes meet Derek’s and he spits the white foam into the sink and wipes at his mouth. Derek follows his movements with a look of disbelief written all over his face and he double takes at the toothbrush in Stiles’ hand, “What are you doing?”

Stiles rolls his eyes because Derek has a bachelor’s degree and he’s still asking that question. Stiles places the toothbrush back in its place and turns around. “Taking a piss,” he says sarcastically because he can’t help himself, “what does it look like I’m doing?”

Derek looks as though he’s regretting agreeing to this arrangement and Stiles immediately reels in the attitude. “I’m sorry. I’m just nervous.”

Derek nods curtly and stuffs his hands into his pockets, hunching his shoulders and staring at the space beside Stiles’ head in order to avoid looking into his eyes, “Look, we don’t have to do this. It was a stupid idea to begin with.”

Stiles steps towards Derek and with confidence he didn’t know he has, pulls Derek by his belt buckle and licks his dry lips before saying softly, “I want this.”

The slight tremor in his voice forces Derek to meet his gaze and Derek’s eyes roam over the features of his face as if he’s searching for something, before resting on his slick lips. His throat moves as he swallows and Derek seems to find the answer he’s looking for because he moves his hand up slowly to grip Stiles’ chin and leans in, his mouth parting. Stiles is leaning against the hard edge of the sink, and though it’s digging painfully into the small of his back, he ignores it because his thoughts are entirely consumed when Derek’s lips brush against his in a barely there kiss.

Their eyes remain open the entire time and Stiles doesn’t realize he’s been holding his breath until Derek pulls away, only leaving an inch of space between them and Stiles lets out a shaky gust of air.

Derek rubs his thumb over Stiles’ chin and his eyes have taken on a different hue, instead of pale green his eyes look like emeralds, flashing various shades of green as he assesses Stiles’ reaction. Stiles is completely fucked because Derek barely kissed him and all he can think about is licking his way into Derek’s mouth for a taste.

Derek’s warm breath ghosts across Stiles’ skin and Stiles shivers in its wake as he whispers, his voice rough and hoarse, “Is this okay?”

Stiles has gone momentarily mute and blinks slowly, leaning forward and closing his eyes as he presses their lips together once more. Derek remains close lipped and unyielding, even as Stiles presses harder into the kiss. Derek eventually moves his fingers from Stiles’ chin to the nape of his neck, playing with the soft hair he finds there. He breaks apart from Stiles and leans their foreheads together, “You’ve officially had your first kiss.”

Derek is completely right but he wants more. He doesn’t know what to do with his hands but he settles with resting them against Derek’s chest, feeling his racing pulse. Stiles is glad to know that Derek is just as affected as he is and decides to take matters into his own hands and says, “I want you to really kiss me, Derek. I know you can do better than that.”

Derek’s eyes open and his jaw clenches as if he’s been holding on to his last bit of self control and surges forward, claiming Stiles in a heated kiss that brings Stiles’ mouth open in a silent gasp. Derek takes the opportunity to caress Stiles’ lips with his tongue, swiping it tentatively across his own. It feels weird at first to have someone else’s tongue in his mouth, but when Derek deepens the kiss and licks at the roof of his mouth and wrestles the wet muscle with Stiles’, he forgets all thoughts and grips Derek’s shirt between his fingers, bunching the soft material tightly.

Stiles tries to keep up but Derek is unrelenting. Their teeth mash together from time to time as well as their noses, but Stiles goes with it because the kiss has turned completely filthy and unrestrained. Stiles has to remember to breathe through his nose as he pulls at Derek’s hair roughly and when Derek nips at his bottom lip, he whimpers into the older boy’s mouth.

Derek’s eyes are dark and ravenous and when Stiles tips his head back, Derek practically attacks Stiles throat, mauling the delicate skin with his sharp bites and sucking the skin with skilled precision. Stiles doesn’t even care that he’s going to have unexplainable marks on his skin that he’ll have to explain to his father later, because Derek is bringing sounds from his mouth that he’s only heard from his late night porn sessions.

Stiles is achingly hard and Derek only pulls away when Stiles ruts into him and brushes their mutually hard dicks together. Derek looks completely wrecked from the wild sex hair he’s sporting to Stiles’ wandering hands, to his swollen red lips, and finally to the crazed look in his eyes.

Stiles is sure he doesn’t look much better but he refuses to turn around and see for himself, the look of Derek’s state a sight he doesn’t want to miss a single second of. Stiles releases his hold on Derek’s shirt and calms his labored breathing as Derek inhales sharply, opening his eyes and revealing a flash of red before he reigns in his animalistic side.

Derek steps back and clears his throat, eyeing the mess he made of Stiles’ throat and scratching his stubble, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to…” he waves towards Stiles’ neck and Stiles nods frantically, brushing his hands down his shirt to soothe the wrinkles away.

“It’s fine. You were very…” he searches for the word and realizes how awkward the air between them is, “helpful,” he decides to go with and pushes off of the sink.

Derek is back to his usual brooding self and he nods curtly at Stiles. The awkward silence is making him uncomfortable and Stiles holds out his hand, “Until next time.”

Derek looks at it wearily but takes it, his grip a little too tight but Stiles doesn’t complain.

It isn’t until Scott catches sight of his neck on his way out the door that Stiles realizes that he may need to borrow Isaac’s hipster scarves to hide the evidence. Scott looks completely horrified and he winces as he pushes Stiles’ head to the side and touches the bruised skin, “Do you need me to kick his ass?”

Stiles chuckles and shakes his head, knowing that if he said yes Scott wouldn’t hesitate to defend his honor, “Nope. My virtue is still intact. I may need to borrow some of your mom’s concealer though.”

Stiles spends the rest of the night looking up ways to get rid of hickeys, though he secretly touches them while he jerks off that night.

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm enjoying writing this :) So I have a question, since they're werewolves and everything should I add knotting to this story or not? I'm debating on it so let me know what you guys think.


	3. Let Me Give You a Hand

 

“Greenberg, what did I tell you about licking the desk?” Coach yells, stomping over to Greenberg and smacking him on top of the head with a fly swatter.

They were supposed to be watching a documentary called, **_The Miracle of Birth_** , but only ten minutes into the film and a student already ran out of the classroom with a hand over their mouth, nearly throwing up on Stiles in their haste to get away, and another started to rant about feminism and the patriarchy and how immature all of the boys were behaving.

Stiles found out two things about himself during this whole debacle. One, he was extremely glad that he would never have to endure the pain of giving birth himself and two, he was most definitely one hundred percent gay.

“There’s only twenty minutes left of class so that means we only have to survive ten minutes two more times,” Scott mutters mostly to himself, checking the time on his phone every thirty seconds.

Stiles snorts and pulls out his phone, knowing that Coach is otherwise occupied and won’t be confiscating it. Stiles scrolls through his list of contacts and smiles when he comes across Derek’s contact info. Of course Derek hadn’t given Stiles his number; he took the information from Scott’s phone several months back without his knowledge.

**I’ll show you mine if you show me yours**

Stiles’ lips twitch when he receives an immediate response.

_Who i.s this ?._

Of course Derek types like a middle aged man who just recently discovered the joys of technology. He’s not surprised in the slightest.

**I can’t believe you don’t remember me. That hurts daddy ;(**

Stiles sends several crying emojis to top it off and grins.

_U have the wrong number_

**_Don’t act like this, baby. #drakewouldn’tdothistome_ **

There’s a loud crash and Stiles glances up to see Coach chasing Greenberg out of the classroom who’s pretending that he’s giving birth using Coach’s favorite pillow.

Stiles’ phone vibrates and he looks down.

_I don’t know this drake person. Stop texting me. Ur annoying._

Stiles chuckles and gets a look from Scott while he types backs.

**That’s not a very nice thing to say to your favorite student, Mr. Hale.**

_Stiles??? How’d u get my number ?_

Stiles leans forward, resting his elbows on the desk.

**I have my ways, Mr. Hale ;)**

_Stop calling me Mr. Hale._

**No role play then? That’s no fun.**

_No._

The bell rings and Stiles sends one final text to Derek telling him that he’ll meet him after school. He’s not sure what’s on the agenda for today, but he’s hoping it involves him getting off. Scott side eyes him as they walk out of class but Stiles refuses to look at him, shouldering his backpack to hide his face and contorting his body to get past students who refuse to budge.

“What?” Stiles finally asks when Scott is still staring at him by the time they reach their lockers.

Scott opens his locker, shoving empty snack wrappers inside of it even though there’s a trash can just five feet away, his eyes alight with mischief. “Who were you texting? You were smiling the entire time so they must be important.”

Stiles scoffs and grabs a couple of books from inside of his locker. “It was just Derek. By the way, you need to introduce him to some twenty first century music. He didn’t even know who Drake was.”

Scott rolls his eyes. “He’s not really the music type. I barely got him to use my Netflix account and before you ask, no, he doesn’t know what Netflix and chill means.”

Stiles blanches at that because he knew Derek wasn’t into social media, he just got a Facebook account last year after all, and he only has one profile picture that shows his resemblance to grumpy cat and his only friends on it are Scott, Stiles and Mrs. McCall. He’s twenty two for god’s sake, he should know these things.

“Yo, Scott!”

Stiles’ skin turns red and his pulse jumps when Theo saunters over, eyes bright and smile wide, his hair perfectly styled like he just stepped off of a runway. Stiles looks him up and down appreciatively and Theo gives him a knowing smirk in return, further reddening Stiles’ skin.

“You going to the frat party tonight?” Theo asks, looking at Scott expectantly.

Scott’s eyes dart to Stiles and he says, “Only if Stiles can come too.”

Stiles appreciates that Scott is including him, he really does, but the grimace that takes over Theo’s smiling face just makes him feel downright pathetic.

“Uh, you won’t tell your dad about it right?” Theo leans towards Stiles and flutters his wide eyes, radiating pure innocence. Stiles is momentarily under Theo’s spell and he nods dreamily, giving Theo a dopey smile.

Theo’s features return to normal and he squeezes Stiles’ shoulder briefly, leaving Stiles’ skin burning from the touch. Theo winks at Stiles and says coyly, “I knew I liked you,” his face turns serious after his flirty comment, “just don’t tell anyone that you’re the Sheriff’s son. They’ll think you’re a nark.”

Stiles opens his mouth to reply when Jackson’s whine echoes throughout the hall.

“Babe!”

Theo turns around, grinning when he sees Jackson giving him fuck-me eyes while sucking on a banana. Jesus, Stiles thought **_he_** was the one with an oral fixation but Jackson wins the award for how many bananas one person can stuff inside of their mouth at once. He has a serious problem with sucking on dick shaped objects and it’s a little desperate in Stiles’ opinion. The thought that Jackson probably drank out of a bottle and used a pacifier until he was ten years old makes him smile internally.

“I’ll see you guys tonight…” Theo’s voice trails off and he follows Jackson into the nearest empty classroom without a second glance their way.

Stiles can’t help but glare daggers at their retreating forms when he feels Scott pat his back awkwardly.

“Maybe you’ll find someone at the party tonight. They say the best way to get over someone is to get under someone else.”

Stiles’ lips lift at the corners in a feeble attempt to resemble a smile at Scott’s effort to cheer him up, but the telling look on Scott’s face lets him know he failed miserably.

-

“So we have the house to ourselves for an hour. I figured we could…”

Stiles stops dead in his tracks because Derek is reading a book in just his boxer briefs that are so sinfully tight that they look like they’re painted onto his lower body. His black, square framed glasses are sliding down the tip of his nose giving him a more mature look and it’s totally not helping with his Mr. Hale fantasy he’s been trying to ignore when he’s jerking it before bed. His long, lean body is sprawled across the bed innocently enough, but the position in which he lays on his back with his legs spread out shows the outline of his dick against his thigh and Stiles is entirely fixated on the sight against his better judgment.

He’s seen Derek shirtless many times before, his sculpted torso and bulging muscles always bringing a sour taste of jealousy to Stiles’ mouth, but mixed with that feeling was always a hint of arousal that Stiles chose to ignore all these years. Now, instead of jealousy all he can taste is yearning and need blossoming on his tongue. Maybe it’s because he’s made out with Derek and he actually reciprocated the kiss, seemed really into it even, though that could have been the result of Stiles’ own delusions coming into play.

Derek sets his book down on the bedside table followed by his glasses, his eyebrows rising in perfect sync at Stiles’ blatant staring. Stiles quickly closes his mouth and averts his eyes, choosing to read the title of the novel instead.

**_Moby- dick._ **

“Interesting. Out of all the books in your collection,” he gestures to the countless novels adorning the bookshelves, “And you choose the one book with the word dick in the title.”

Derek looks unimpressed at his observation, his face remaining blank and stoic. Stiles swallows around the itch in the back of his throat, Derek’s silence only further fueling the nervous feeling in his gut.

Stiles looks down and plays with the string on the sleeve of his shirt, twirling the material around his index finger until it turns bright red under the pressure. He hears Derek sigh softly next to him and feels the tips of Derek’s fingers brush against the back of his hand. When Stiles turns his head, he finds that Derek has an unreadable expression on his face but before Stiles can analyze it any further; Derek tilts his head to the side and presses a chaste kiss to Stiles’ mouth, holding the position for a few seconds before pulling away.

Stiles’ lips preen when he pulls away and Stiles moves his gaze to Derek’s parted lips.

“What was that for?”

Derek shrugs and scoots a couple inches away. “You looked sad.”

He’s not about to talk feelings with Derek so instead of releasing word vomit that consists of how Theo is never going to want him back and he’s going to die a lonely cat person, he tugs Derek closer by the waist and looks up at him through his lashes.

“I’ll feel better once you make me come.”

Derek lets out a choked sound, his eyes narrowing playfully. “Or we could skip the lesson today. I think your right hand knows what its doing.”

Masturbation jokes, huh. Stiles didn’t think Derek even knew what a sense of humor was. Determined to wipe that smug look off of Derek’s face, Stiles drops to his knees and places his hands at the tops of Derek’s thighs, running his fingers through the fine hair scattered across the skin. Stiles’ lips curve up in a smile at Derek’s sharp intake of breath, his body stilling when Stiles traces disorganized patterns from the tops of his knees until he reaches the edge of Derek’s underwear.

“What are you doing?” Derek asks, his voice rough and broken when Stiles brushes his hand softly against Derek’s growing hardness. He watches curiously, never having seen a dick so up close and personal that wasn’t his own or on pornhub, discounting the time Greenberg ran down the hall naked.

Stiles tries to keep his voice flippant but when he meets Derek’s eyes, dark and desperate as if he’s starving for Stiles’ touch, his breath catches. His mouth dries and his dick twitches in response as he whispers out, “I’m touching you. Practice makes perfect, right?”

Derek’s hand snaps out and his palm encloses around Stiles’ wrist, but instead of pulling Stiles’ hand away, he moves it up until his palm is hovering above Derek’s cock that’s straining against his underwear, a wet spot forming where his dick is leaking.

“You know what to do.” His eyes flash red when he unmistakably uses his Alpha voice on Stiles. Stiles feels dizzy with lust and he lowers his eyes, knowing that if he maintains eye contact that he’ll lose his nerve or come in his pants, neither if which is appealing.

“Do I? Maybe you should show me.” Stiles asks, gathering his nerve to reach inside of Derek’s briefs and pull his cock out, marveling at the way it pulses in his hand, the tip wet and flushed, the way his dick curves up against his stomach that clenches when Stiles traces a vein with his finger.

Derek hisses through clenched teeth and suddenly hauls Stiles to the bed, sitting him down in the spot next to him and growls out, “Quit being a tease.”

Derek smacks the smug look off of his face the moment his warm, calloused hand unzips Stiles from his jeans deftly and frees Stiles’ cock, using his free hand to grab some lube and cover his palm with the substance. Derek flicks his eyes towards Stiles, his gaze heated and unwavering while he squeezes and strokes Stiles, the feeling so familiar yet incredibly foreign to him.

Fuck, it’s so much better than jerking off, he previously thought that a hand was a hand but Derek is proving him wrong. Derek’s grip is perfect, the way he strokes up and down seamlessly, thumbing at the tip and flicking his wrist to change the pace when Stiles’ breath quickens, signaling his impending orgasm.

Stiles doesn’t want to come so quickly, especially since he knows Derek will tease him for it later, but Derek’s intense staring and the way he looks at Stiles likes he’s the most desirable person on the planet is too much too handle. He doesn’t even realize that he’s let go of Derek’s cock until his hips buck up into Derek’s grip, his eyes rolling as he grips the sheets between his fingers.

“I thought I was supposed to be the one doing the work here,” Stiles grits out, moaning the last word when Derek leans over, mouthing at the underside of his jaw, his breath hot.

“You said you wanted to get off. Plus this is payback for the texts you sent me earlier.” Stiles lets his eyes fall shut, focusing on the feeling of Derek’s pants against his cheeks and the vibrating of his chest as he lets out undistinguishable sounds. Derek speeds up his hand, his movements becoming rough and quick as he sucks at Stiles’ pulse point. “I love the little noises you make when you’re about to come,” he nips at the delicate flesh and Stiles continues to rut into his hand, “You’re not so cocky now are you?”

Stiles opens his mouth to protest but a high pitched moan leaves his mouth instead. He can feel Derek’s lips lift against his skin, his laugh coming out breathless when Stiles turns his head and slots their mouths together, sucking and biting at Derek’s lips. Derek presses into the kiss and asserts his dominance over Stiles, shoving his tongue into Stiles’ mouth wickedly.

When they break apart to breathe, their foreheads touching, panting into each other’s open mouths, Derek demands, “Let me see you come, Stiles. Fuck.”

That brings Stiles over the edge, his back arching and his mouth wide against Derek as he moans out his release, his dick pulsating spurts all over Derek’s hand. He comes so hard that his mind goes blank with pleasure, his blood warming with euphoria. Derek strokes him through it, letting go once Stiles softens.

When Stiles opens his eyes, Derek is breathing heavily and he clenches his fingers into fists, his cock red and angry looking as it bobs. Stiles licks his lips at the sight, Derek’s breath hitching and he throws a leg over Derek’s lap, situating himself so that he’s sitting on top of Derek, their faces only inches away.

“Want some help with that?” Stiles asks him, confidently taking Derek into his hand and mimicking Derek’s previous motions.

Derek nods in response, his throat moving as he swallows, his eyes locked on Stiles’ hand that’s twisting and squeezing his cock just right. Derek looks mesmerized by the sight and he lets out occasional sighs, his muscles trembling as he tries to stay silent. Stiles is having none of that and he tightens his grip, his body thrumming with satisfaction at Derek’s blown out eyes, the loud stretched out moan that leaves his throat.

“You like that, Derek?”

Derek rolls his eyes, and his face scrunches when Stiles starts to rock in his lap. “Shut up,” Derek says, but his heart isn’t in it. Stiles uses every trick he knows, slow languid strokes and quick fast strokes, thumbing at the tip and using his other hand to roll Derek’s balls in his hand.

“Do you think about me when you touch yourself?” Stiles asks, Derek’s chest heaving and the muscles in his thighs tensing. Derek ignores his question, but that doesn’t dissuade Stiles in the slightest.

“I think about you. How badly I want to you in my mouth, how badly I want to taste you,” Stiles murmurs into Derek’s ear and Derek grips at Stiles’ ass, his come shooting into Stiles’ hand and onto his stomach. Derek’s face when he comes is even better than Stiles imagined it would be, his face flushed and mouth wet and open, begging to be kissed.

Stiles doesn’t think about it when he kisses Derek, Derek stiffening under his lips before he melts and brings Stiles closer. Their hurried kisses turned slow and lazy, the beeping of Stiles’ phone being the antidote that snaps them out of their lust filled trance.

It’s as if a bucket of cold water is poured over them and they hurriedly detach themselves from each other. Stiles wiping his hand on Derek’s shirt earning him a glare before he reaches for his phone, Scott’s text making him chuckle.

**Are you guys done yet? We need to leave soon if you want to go to the party.**

Stiles texts back a quick reply and looks up, noticing the way Derek’s face is closed off as he pulls on his pants. Stiles does the same and clears his throat awkwardly. “Hey, what are you doing tonight?”

Derek quirks his head and eyes him curiously. “Why?”

Stiles shrugs as if it’s no big deal. “There’s just some frat party. I figured it would be a good way for you to meet people, be social.”

Derek’s answer is quick and simple. “No.”

“Come on,” Stiles emphasizes the whine in his voice, the one he uses on his dad frequently, “it will be fun. You can make sure I don’t cause any trouble.”

Derek looks at him considering, his eyes searching Stiles’ face. His eyes soften for a brief moment before he lets out an affirmative grunt. “Fine.”

They don’t talk about what just occurred, Stiles choosing to ignore his feelings and focus on the party tonight. It’s just physical, after all.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just physical, Stiles? Okay ;) I hope you enjoyed!


	4. Chapter Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally a new chapter! I've been super busy with work and school so I barely have time to write anymore ;/ I won't give up though! Enjoy!

“Please tell me you’re not wearing that,” Stiles says, gesturing to Scott’s outfit consisting of fucking **_jorts_**. Scott looks extremely offended by his comment and he unconsciously tugs at the fabric that has differing shades of stains on it.

“Your outfit isn’t much better, Stiles,” Scott retorts, referring to Stiles’ Game of Thrones t-shirt under an oversized blazer. Stiles chose it figuring it would be a good conversation starter, especially since he was a little awkward when it came to meeting new people. Word vomit was his personal demise, and not for the first time he wishes he had a brain to mouth filter.

“You know nothing, Jon Snow,” Stiles says dramatically, rolling his eyes when Scott looks over at him in confusion.

“Are we leaving or not? I have things to do.” Derek’s monotone voice breaks up their bickering.

“Are we interrupting your brooding time? Or do you need to stare out your window longingly while Coldplay plays in the background before you go to bed?” Stiles can’t help but sass, grinning when Derek frowns and his eyebrows draw together.

Derek is wearing his usual attire of black, black and more black. He’s wearing his leather jacket and Stiles’ favorite jeans that accentuates his toned ass; his shirt is unbuttoned at the top showing off the scattering of dark chest hair…

Scott clears his throat and looks at Stiles knowingly while Derek is avoiding eye contact with him and shifts awkwardly in place. Right, werewolves can smell his arousal.

“Can we please take the Camaro?” Stiles asks sweetly to distract them, his eyes wide as he flutters his lashes up at Derek.

Derek seems unaffected by his act (Stiles is only a little bitter about it), and wordlessly walks out of the house to his shiny, impeccably clean Camaro that’s in pristine condition. Derek is very strict when it comes to his car, the onetime Stiles tried to eat a bag of chips Derek threatened to put him in the trunk for the remainder of the two hour car ride. It was a little ridiculous.

Stiles runs up to the driver’s side right before Derek is about to open the door and bumps crotches with Derek accidently, their faces flushing simultaneously at the unintended contact.

“Can I drive? I promise I’ll be careful.” Stiles says casually, feigning indifference but they both know he’s dying to be the driver for once. He figures it can’t hurt to ask, especially since he’s the one getting Derek off.

Derek’s eyes narrow and he smirks. “Sure.”

Stiles’ eyes widen and he practically cries out in happiness and shock. “Really?”

The smirk drops from Derek’s mouth and he shoves Stiles away from the door. “No.”

Stiles pouts but reluctantly gets in the front passenger side, sticking his tongue out at Derek when he isn’t looking.

“Why am I always in the back?” Scott whines, his arms crossed as he glares at Stiles through the rearview mirror. Stiles rubs his hand up Derek’s thigh, noticing the way Derek stiffens under his touch. “I have certain privileges now Scott, isn’t that right Derek?”

Derek remains stone faced and silent but he removes Stiles’ hand from his upper thigh and speeds out of the driveway. Stiles takes that as a yes.

He tried to play some music but Derek refused to listen to anything Stiles liked until they finally settled on the old rock station. Stiles and Scott belted out every song and even Derek cracked a smile when their singing reached ‘cat being murdered’ status.

Stiles’ nerves caught up with him when they finally pulled up to the frat house. The streets are lined with dozens of cars and students are walking around in packs around the neighborhood and in the streets. Even from inside the car Stiles can hear the music blasting from the house and the vibrations through the car seat.

Derek parks the car a couple of blocks away from the party, stating that he didn’t trust drunken idiots around his precious baby. It takes them a full five minutes to walk to the party from his car and they see several drunken girls with their heels in their hands and matching flower crowns on their heads. Most of the girls are wearing some variation of the same outfit; high waisted shorts and crop tops. Stiles can tell the frat guys from the other college guys; the frat bros are wearing button up shirts complete with a clip on bow tie, jackets, colored shorts and loafers. Some are even wearing fucking **_fedoras._**

There’s a long line out the front door because apparently you have to be on a list to get in. When they finally make it a guy who looks like he spent way too much time in a tanning booth with unnaturally white teeth greets them. “Who do you know here?” he asks, looking Stiles up and down skeptically, his eyes widening slightly at Derek’s scowling face.

Stiles thought they only asked that question in the movies. What are names of typical frat guys? Stiles blurts the first name he thinks of. “Nick.”

The guy stares at him. “Nick what? There are twelve Nicks in this frat.”

“Uh…”

“Actually my friend Theo invited us,” Scott intervenes, throwing Stiles a sympathetic look.

The guy’s face instantly brightens. “Any friend of Theo’s is a friend of mine! Come on in!” He lets Scott and Stiles through but he glances at Derek warily. “He’s not an undercover cop right? He’s giving me major Twenty One Jump Street vibes.”

Derek huffs and pushes past him, going to the darkest corner of the room and looking through his cell phone. Stiles is going to have to do some major damage control on that front. Scott has found his way to Allison and when Stiles goes to the kitchen to get a beer, he spots Theo pouring himself a drink.

Stiles gives himself a mini prep talk and takes a long, deep breath before he saunters over to Theo, or tries to at least. Theo doesn’t notice him at first but when he finally does he gives Stiles a half hug, surprising Stiles enough that he doesn’t return the gesture right away.

“I’m glad you could make it,” Theo says, his smile genuine.

Stiles lets out a nervous laugh and takes a sip of his beer. “Me too. I love going to parties.”

Theo raises an eyebrow like he doesn’t believe him. “Really? You don’t seem like the going out type.”

Stiles grabs a shot from the table and downs it, holding in a cough from the burning sensation as it goes down his throat. Theo looks impressed. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me, Theo,” Stiles says, voice rough from the liquor.

“Mm, I guess you’re right.” Theo brushes his hand over Stiles’, his eyes playful.

“There you are!” Jackson’s voice breaks the moment between them and Theo quickly pulls his hand away.

Jackson attaches himself to Theo’s side like a leech and Stiles can’t help but narrow his eyes. Jackson is sucking on a lollipop (of fucking course) and he reeks of alcohol. Theo throws him an apologetic smile and tugs Jackson to the dance floor, Jackson grinding on him the whole way there.

Stiles watches them, downing the rest of his beer bitterly as he witnesses Jackson roll his hips against Theo until their moves turn downright indecent. He looks to the dark corner where Derek was last but he’s nowhere to be seen. When he investigates further, he finds that Derek is uncomfortably leaning away from a girl on one of the couches who looks like she wants to eat Derek alive.

Stiles barks out a laugh, earning him a mix between a glare and a plea for help from Derek’s eyes and he decides to take pity on him since its Stiles’ fault he’s at the party to begin with. Stiles plops himself down on Derek’s lap carelessly and kisses him open mouthed, sucking on Derek’s tongue with a low moan. Derek throws an arm around his waist, bringing Stiles closer as he takes control of the kiss and leaves Stiles breathless.

When they pull away, chests heaving and eyes dark, a high pitched squeal from beside them gets their attention. The girl doesn’t seem the least bit perturbed at their public display of affection, in fact, she seems extremely turned on. “I’m down for a threesome if you are,” she says, winking at them.

“Sorry, you’re not really our type,” Stiles says apologetically.

The girl shrugs, “I’m cool with just watching.”

“Fuck off,” Derek growls out, frightening the girl enough to make her finally leave them alone.

“We seriously need to work on your social skills,” Stiles teases him, his grin widening when Derek tightens his hold around Stiles’ waist to keep him steady.

“We’re being watched,” Derek points out, nodding his head behind Stiles’ shoulder. Stiles tries to be inconspicuous but he fails miserably, looking over his shoulder and staring straight at Theo who is looking at them curiously. Jackson is still grinding all over him but Theo doesn’t pay him any mind, just watches Stiles, his eyes lingering on Derek’s hands on his hips.

Derek notices and pulls Stiles closer, leans in to whisper in his ear. “Is that the guy you’re obsessed with?”

Stiles turns his head to meet Derek’s dark eyes, his breath catching at the heat they hold. “I’m not obsessed with him. I like him. I know that’s probably a foreign concept to you.”

Derek ignores his jab and leans forward as if he’s going to kiss Stiles, their lips brushing together softly as he speaks. “Let’s give him a show then. Let him know what he’s missing out on.”

Stiles barely has time to reply as Derek lifts him off of his lap and takes his hand to guide him to the dance floor. Several people are watching them, including Jackson and Theo as Derek pulls Stiles’ back up against his front and rolls his hips into Stiles’ ass. His hands sneak their way under Stiles’ shirt, his palm hot and Stiles’ skin tingles where his palm is splayed out across his stomach. Stiles leans into Derek, meeting his hip rolls with some of his own in time with the beat of the music.

Derek’s low moan resonates in his ear and Stiles can feel his cock hardening against the swell of his ass. Stiles has never been more turned on in his life, especially when Derek presses wet, open mouthed kisses to the back of his neck and down the side of his throat. Theo is watching their every move, his face unreadable except for the hard look in his eyes.

“Look how jealous he is,” Derek whispers, his voice rough. He places his hand under Stiles’ chin and turns his head to kiss him deeply, his eyes open as he stares Theo down. The kiss leaves Stiles breathless and shaking and if it weren’t for Derek holding him up he would fall from weak knees.

He’s never seen this side of Derek before, so confident and sure of his every move. Usually Derek likes to be invisible, stays in the background in order to be left alone. He doesn’t know what to make of this Derek. He wonders how Derek acted in college, if he let loose like he is right now. If he danced with other people like he is with Stiles. Stiles is surprised by the little burst of anger that zips through him and he disengages from Derek once the song ends.

He feels a little light headed and the humid room filled with body heat is starting to get to him. Derek must notice his discomfort because his eyes roam over Stiles’ face with concern. “Are you okay?”

Stiles waves him off and he heads for the stairs. “I’m fine. I just need to use the bathroom.”

He hurriedly runs up the stairs, ignoring Derek’s hurt and confused expression. There’s a long line for the bathroom and Stiles groans out in frustration, deciding to find an empty room instead. Most of the rooms are occupied with horny teenagers but he manages to find an empty room that graciously has a box of condoms on the bedside table. He sits on the bed and takes a couple of deep breaths, his head clearing after a couple of seconds.

A knock from the door startles him and his heart begins to pound when Theo’s head peeks through. “Mind if I come in?”

“Sure,” Stiles says, laughing nervously.

Theo takes the seat next to him on the bed and grins. “I didn’t know you have a boyfriend.”

“He’s not really my boyfriend,” Stiles says hurriedly. “We’re just having fun. It’s not as serious as you and Jackson.”

Theo seems to find his statement funny. “Jackson thinks we’re something that we’re not. I’m not really the relationship type to be honest.”

Stiles deflates a little at that but for some reason it just makes Stiles want to try harder. For him to be the one that Theo finally settles down for. Stiles shrugs and stands up. “I should probably get back to Derek.”

Theo grabs his arm and tugs him back down, his hand lingering on his bicep. “I don’t want you to go just yet,” he whispers, his gaze locked with Stiles as he leans forward. Stiles holds his breath, waiting for the moment their lips will touch when Jackson tumbles in, clearly wasted.

“The fuck?” he slurs, reaching for Theo and glaring at Stiles. “Mine.”

Theo rolls his eyes and sighs, looking disappointed by the interruption. Jackson is resting his head against Theo’s shoulder and he’s on the brink of passing out. “I should get him home,” Theo says regretfully.

“Yeah you should. Do you need any help?” Stiles offers, hoping to get more time with Theo.

“I’m good, thanks. I’ll see you at school tomorrow?” Theo asks hopefully, using his broad shoulders to carry on Jackson’s dead weight.

“Okay,” Stiles says quietly, his heart skipping a beat when Theo winks at him before leaving.

Derek appears in the doorway as soon as Theo leaves with a drink in his hand. Stiles stares at the opened can of beer and raises an eyebrow. “I thought werewolves couldn’t get drunk.”

Derek hesitates in the doorway before he makes up his mind to take Theo’s old spot, showing Stiles the can of beer that is laced with wolfs bane. He sets the can on the dresser next to the box of condoms and shakes his head.

“You should take some for later,” Stiles comments to lighten the atmosphere. That makes Derek’s lips lift. “I have my own,” he responds and eyes the box, “Plus they’re not my size.”

Stiles bites his lip as he thinks back to when he was touching Derek’s cock, the faces and sounds Derek made when Stiles made him come. He scoots closer to Derek and leans in until their shoulders touch. Stiles looks down at Derek’s hand, his own itching to reach out and touch him.

Derek does it for him, laces their fingers together and looks at Stiles thoughtfully. “What happened earlier?”

Stiles opens his mouth to reply but Derek beats him to it. “And don’t lie. I’ll be able to tell.”

Stiles takes a moment to gather his thoughts because honestly he doesn’t really know the answer himself. One moment he was fine and the next he felt like the world was closing in on him, like everything was too much for him to handle. His feelings for Derek are coming back and he wasn’t expecting it. He decides to omit the truth because if Derek finds out then he’ll call off their deal and Stiles doesn’t want that. Not at all.

“I was jealous,” Stiles says slowly, making it seem like he’s talking about Theo and Jackson when really he’s jealous of all of the people Derek’s been with before.

Derek squeezes Stiles’ hand before quickly sliding it back into his own lap. Derek’s face has lost all traces of emotion, his posture becoming closed off. He swallows before turning to face Stiles, a forced smile on his face that looks more like a grimace. “Well he followed you up here didn’t he? I guess our plan is working.”

Stiles nods and searches Derek’s face for any hint of _something, anything._ He finds nothing and he smiles back just as wide. “We should probably go back downstairs.”

“Yeah,” Derek says, the awkward tension back in full force. It’s as if the past couple of days never happened and they’re back to when he was just Scott’s annoying best friend.

When they make it downstairs without a single word or glance to one another, they find Scott fast asleep on the couch with a sharpie dick on his face. His mouth is open wide and he’s snoring so of course Stiles has to take a picture for future blackmail, especially since Scott still has the picture of him kissing his favorite stuffed animal when he was ten years old.

The party around them has gotten a little out of control and the frat guy who vetted them throws up on Derek’s shoes. “Oops,” he laughs before he goes back to a keg to get more alcohol.

Derek is full on giving Stiles the ultimate death glare and Stiles just laughs nervously. Derek angrily removes his shoes and throws them into the nearest trash can. “Now I remember why I don’t listen to your idiotic ideas.”

“Please,” Stiles scoffs, “this is probably the most fun you’ve had in months.”

“Just shut up and help me get him out of here,” Derek growls out, throwing Scott over his shoulder, his eyes flashing at anyone who dares to get in his way.

The sounds of sirens in the distance make Stiles’ anxiety come back in full force, his heart lodged in his throat and his stomach clenching painfully.

This is not how Stiles expected tonight to go.

 


End file.
